


Fluff Is All It Takes

by YohKoBennington



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Animal Therapy, Bit of Fluff, Hurt!Sam, M/M, Parent Death, mentions of depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-28
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-05-30 00:29:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15085076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YohKoBennington/pseuds/YohKoBennington
Summary: Sam wades through a labyrinth as he tries to help Dean with his grief. Good thing he gets help from a little ball of fur.





	Fluff Is All It Takes

**Author's Note:**

> Uh, this is my springfling of this year, that I forgot to post here because at that moment I was having a hate/love relationship with the whole writing fanfiction and fandom. I still love this story tho :)
> 
> Beta'ed by jdl71. Any lasting mistakes are mine.

The house is quiet when Sam opens the front door. He's not surprised, these days there's more silence than noise in their home.

It’s not like it used to be before.

“Dean?” he calls out and gets no answer.

Sam sighs, and leaves his keys in the key holder. He toes off his shoes as he walks into the living room. The TV is in some sort of old movie, and Sam's eyes land on the sprawled form of his husband on the couch. Sam curses inwardly, and starts tip-toeing towards their bedroom. He would have felt horrible if Dean had woken up because of his hollering, that will teach him to not be so loud.

Dean barely sleeps at night these past few days, but he's been managing to get some Z's here and there between work.

Sam wishes he could help him. He feels so impotent all the time now.

Sighing again, Sam gets out of his uniform and changes into something more comfortable. He goes back out towards the kitchen, and starts to get everything ready for dinner without making much of a ruckus. He hopes that Dean is feeling a bit better after his nap and will want to eat, Sam knows he hasn't eaten anything today.

“Hey,”

Sam turns at the sound of Dean's gruff voice. He's standing by the threshold, hair sticking up in different directions, as he rubs his eyes sleepy. He looks damn adorable, and Sam can't help but walk towards him and give him a quick kiss, that Dean accepts happily.

“I'm sorry, did I wake you?” Sam asks guiltily.

“Nah, I wasn't enjoying sleeping as much anymore.” Dean says offhandedly.

Sam's eyes go soft, understanding. He moves to gather Dean in his arms.

Dean clings to him and takes a deep breath. “Is it ever going to get better?”

Sam can hear the sadness and all the fear in that question. “It will, just give yourself the time to heal, sweetheart. Just give yourself the time.” Sam almost begs, because he can see how much Dean is pushing it to make everything feel normal and not allowing himself to grieve.

Dean doesn't say anything else.

Sam just holds him tight until Dean’s ready to let go.

 

~*~

Losing a parent is probably one of the hardest things to go through in life, especially when you're very close to them. Dean's mother had always been his rock before Sam came in to his life. She raised him all by herself and they only had each other for a long time. She saw the best in Dean and pushed him to his full potential. But she also saw his faults and guided him to make sure those wouldn't tarnish his life. She died as peacefully as one can expect when cancer eats you from the inside out. Those months of fighting, of hoping she would pull through, Sam thought were Hell.

But he was wrong. _This is Hell_.

Each day that passes after they buried her, he feels Dean unconsciously pulling away. Sam tells himself that Dean just needs time to come to terms with losing his mother, like anyone else. So he doesn't push when a month passes and Dean is more withdrawn instead of better. He doesn't mention anything when another few weeks go by and Dean barely gets out of the bed or eats anymore. He tells himself, he needs to be patient. What Dean is going through is not easy.

But the truth is that he's scared shitless that when they buried Mary, Dean went down with her.

 

~*~

Sam doesn't say anything until he can't do it anymore.

“What?” Dean asks without looking at him.

“I didn't say a word,” Sam answers.

“You're staring.”

Sam frowns, sighs. “Can we talk for a minute?”

“So, there's something.”

“I just—I know you're hurting, Dean. Believe me, I do, and I can't even imagine how hard this must be for you, but, honey, I'm getting a little worried here.”

Dean turns to face him. “Nothing to be worried. Mom died, I've dealt with it and I'm fine.”

Sam shoulders slump. He's gonna have to say it. “You are not dealing with it. You don't sleep, you barely eat anything, you won't even come out of our room anymore; except to go to work on a good day, and sometimes you just do it even from our bed instead. You won't let me hug or comfort you anymore. You're literally standing in front of me and I feel like you're not here at all.”

Dean huffs. “You're being over-dramatic—“

“I think you should see a therapist.” Sam rushes out, before Dean can come up with any more excuses.

One of Dean's eyebrow goes all the way up, disbelief painted in his face. “Excuse me?”

“You won't talk to me, and that's okay, I get it. But you need to talk to someone.”

“No.” Dean growls.

Sam flinches. “Dean, please,” his words are left hanging in the air, because Dean marches past him, and walks out of the house into the raging storm outside. Sam stands there breathing heavily, like he’s just run five miles, and he tries very hard not to fall apart.

 

~*~

Dean comes back eventually, probably needing some time to think about what Sam said to him. There's something black in his arms.

“Is that—is that a cat?”

The black wet fluff gives a low meow for an answer. It's very tiny, and clings to Dean's shirt when he moves to the bathroom to get a towel and starts to pat dry him.

“Dude, hello? Where did you even find a kitten?”

Dean ignores him.

“Oh, we are doing this now too?” Sam sing-songs at him, exasperated. Dean won't even look at him. Sam throws his hands up and stalks off. If Dean wants to be a dick about it, then Sam is not talking to him either.

Two can play this game.

 

~*~

The cat stays.

In all honesty, he thought Dean would let it go in the morning once it stopped raining. But no, the cat stays and it’s a whole new revelation.

Dean takes care of it, like this kitten's life depends on it. Well, it probably does. But Dean had been very clear in the past that while he didn't hate animals, he didn't want one living under the same roof as him and making a mess. Because he's a bit of a clean freak; Sam doesn't feel bad thinking it, he has told Dean to his face, and it's the truth.

So, to see his husband be so damn devoted to the kitten and allowing it to stay for over a week....

Sam is between fascinated to see this whole side of Dean, and pissed off because the kitten is all Dean cares about.

He doesn't know which emotion to go for right now.

 

~*~

He doesn't go with pissed off.

He likes the cat too, even though the little fluff ball spends most of his time with Dean, more than Sam does with him. They started talking to each other again....sort of. All Dean will give him is monosyllabic responses at this point. But Sam isn't going to push it, because the cat is doing him good.

It kinda hurts to admit it, because Sam wants to be the one to help Dean through this.

But he can't make himself hate the kitten, when it makes Dean smile softly for the first time in months.

If this is what Dean needs to come out of the shell he created, then so be it.

 

~*~

The damn cat escapes.

It's all Sam's fault. He wasn't paying attention as he was entering the house with the groceries, and the cat took that chance to run outside. Sam dropped the bags, and ran after him, but somewhere along the way he lost sight of it.

Sam is freaking out. Dean loves that cat so much. He named him Batsy, because it reminds him of a bat, with its big yellow eyes and too long muzzle. Dean gave the cat a _name_ , it was never leaving his side, and now Sam had to go and screw it all up.

This cat is Dean's therapist. He's been doing so much better, talking to Sam in full sentences and acting like his old self again with each passing day.

What the hell is Sam supposed to tell Dean? _Oh you not only lost your mother five months ago, now the cat is gone too. Sorry you gotta go through that trauma again!_

Shit. Sam can't go back home until he finds that cat. Dean will divorce him for losing their only child.

“Here, kitty kitty!” He starts calling. “C'mere Batsy!” He walks between the houses, and then moves to the wooded area. “Batsy, I swear to god you better come back. I got food for you!” Sam screams to the trees. “Don't do this to me dude.” He whispers, heart heavy with trying to figure out how he will tell Dean about this.

He keeps looking until well into the night.

 

~*~

“Where have you been all this time?” Is Dean's greeting as Sam walks with a limp through the front door carrying a bundle of black fur. “And what the fuck happened to you?” Dean gasps, moving to help Sam to sit down on the couch. Batsy, the little shit, blinks up at the both of them, as Dean pets him softly for a minute and then pulls him out of Sam's arms and lowers him onto the floor.

Sam knows he must looks fantastic right now: leaves are sticking to him everywhere, in his hair and to his clothes, he’s covered in dirt all over his skin and clothes, like he rolled in it. God, he probably reeks too. His leg is throbbing, and every muscle in his body are screaming a good amount of: _screw you idiot._

Dean is back with a bag of frozen peas, and he carefully takes Sam's shoe off and raises his leg onto his thighs as he puts the bag on Sam's ankle. Sam hisses, and tries very hard not to pull away.

“What happened?”

Sam cheeks flush. “I might have let the cat out and had to climb a tree to get him back,” Sam mumbles.

Dean eyebrows shot up, taking in the information. “You fell from it, didn't you?” he chuckles.

Sam is so dazzled by Dean chuckling— he hasn't heard that sound in so long— that he just nods with his mouth open.

“Jesus Christ, babe, you could have just called me and I would have helped search for him.”

Sam whines deep in his throat. “It was my fault. I didn't want you to lose him too.” He can feel his lower lip trembling a bit. He's been keeping it together all this time, it figures the cat escaping would undo him.

Dean sighs, and pulls him into a hug, being careful of Sam's leg. “And what would I've had done if I had lost you? You could have broken your neck, Sam.” Dean's arms tighten around him, and he shakily breathes out.

Sam didn't think about that, honestly. He feels even more like a piece of crap now. “I'm so sorry,” he sobs. He can't do anything right anymore.

“Hey, no.” Dean pulls back. “I'm the one that's sorry for making you think even for a minute that Batsy is more important than you.”

Sam shakes his head. “He has helped you a lot.”

“And so have you.”

“I did nothing. I wanted to, but I just didn't know how.”

“Just by being here with me. By still staying when I was being a complete asshole.” Dean wipes Sam's tears away. “I allowed myself to let everything out because I knew that in the end you would still be here, waiting for me in the other side. I'm sorry, though, for ignoring you.”

“It's okay. You're back now.” Sam whispers, hands touching Dean's cheek softly.

Dean turns his head to kiss Sam’s palm, and Sam sobs again, but this time from happiness.

Batsy meows loudly at Dean's feet.

“Way to ruin the moment, dude!” Dean chastises their fur ball, putting Sam's leg down on the couch, and he bends to pick up the cat. “And who told you it's okay to leave he house? Now I have to take your papa to the hospital, little devil, and you're grounded.” Dean says as he walks towards their bedroom and locks Batsy there.

Sam watches the exchange fondly. “It's not that bad, I will just take some pain medication and ice it,” he says when Dean is back.

“Nah-ah sir, we're not down playing this.” Dean bends to help him stand up. “We're getting the clear from the doctor. And then it will be my turn to take care of you.” He smiles, and then kisses Sam tenderly in the lips. “Let's go, moose!”

Sam laughs as he limps his way out of the house, with Dean at his side supporting him.

Even thought these few months have been very hard to experience, and his ankle feels like it wants to detach from his body, all Sam can think about is how glad he's to finally have the love of his life back.

 

 

~Fin~

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading ♥


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